There's something frustrating about spending a month searching for the perfect handbag, only to proudly wear it out of the house the first time...and run into four other people proudly wearing it out of the house. I really think there should be a rule against that.
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If Patrick Dempsey likes a particular crib or Courteney Cox is enamored with her new sling, I'm more than delighted for them. Really. But a celeb endorsement just doesn't weigh too heavily in my opinion of a product. However when I hear that there's a kids' album out by the preschool music teacher for all of Beverly Hills--okay, I've got to admit I stop and take note.
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Our lawn is covered in snow - again - but the calendar doesn't lie: Spring really is right around the corner. While I'm looking forward to wagon rides to the park, I'm not excited about coaxing the girls into their coats, which I will then have to carry as the day goes on. Layering is the key here.
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I generally laugh when I can hear strollers coming from two blocks away. Between the clip-on plush toys with rattles, jingly balls, and squeaky stuffed animals all tethered to the stroller bar--it's madness!
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There are so many diaper bags out there, it can make your head spin. But what's hard to find is one that really suits the artsy mom who doesn't really see herself carrying a diaper bag in the first place (let alone a baby). Still, those waterproof interiors are pretty convenient...
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From everything I've been reading, birds are the new black. Or something like that. We're seeing them taking flight on jewelry, on artwork, on stationery, and now in perhaps one of the most welcome places, in nurseries.
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Sometimes we just find a kids tee that makes us laugh so hard, we'd be remiss if we didn't share it with the world - even if our first instinct is to keep it for ourselves.
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Having a child means learning the fine art of apologizing - sorry Haden ruined your plane trip. Sorry Oliver ate your lipstick. Sorry Violet reached into her diaper and flung its contents at your dinner guests. Not that I'd know about such things.
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Anything that gets me a little more excited to spend time in the kitchen is a good thing indeed. And by time in the kitchen, I don't mean standing at the fridge in the middle of the night, looking for the last ice cream bar that someone ate without asking my permission.
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A rocking horse is one of the essential staples of the traditional American nursery. But what if you don't have the traditional American nursery? If you've taken the time to pick out the perfect Oeuf dresser and Svan table and chairs, those little ponies with the synthetic manes just may not cut it in the junior bedroom.
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I'm a minimalist when it comes to dressing babies: No jewelry, no fancy hats, and no booties. My girls didn't wear shoes until they could walk, and I still grin at the professional portraits we have of them with bare toes peeking out from underneath their dresses.
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My toddler's going through that self-awareness phase right now. She loves to preen in front of the bathroom mirror and make silly faces at her reflection windows. Not surprisingly, Rosie's new MeMovies are the greatest thing to hit our household since the swaddling blanket.
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Considering how far the career possibilities for women have come even since we were kids, it blows my mind that it's still hard to find art depicting girls much beyond princesses, ballerinas, and the ocassional generic animal lover. (Veterinarian? Or just crazy cat lady in the making?)
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It seems like overnight, our refrigerator became a full-on child's art gallery. And while I love checking out my daughter's masterpieces every time I go for a snack, that old fridge door just doesn't do her creations any justice.
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Once upon a time, a doll featuring huge eyes, long lashes and skimpy skirts wouldn't call to mind tasteless mass produced slut dolls that enrage millions of moms; but rather hip 60s-era fashion icons.
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I've been scouring the web for the perfect chairs for my daughter's tiny heiny, but I always run into the same problems. Either the chairs look like they were grown at the awful plastic farm, or they cost more than... ... [More]
It has come to my attention that I have a bit of a bag addiction. And now Jane Raymond of Style Sister Studio enters my life and complicates matters further, since her amazing bags are the kinds that make you say, "oh just one more."
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I'm not the type of person who avoids walking under ladders or reschedules meetings because my horoscope tells me to. But I admit that when I heard that babies born this year, according to Chinese astrology, would be the very blessed and rare Golden Pigs - I gave my pregnant belly a little rub and smiled from ear to ear.
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I'm all for calling a spade a spade. Or the parts of the body by their proper names. And I'm convinced that the longer you delay the naming of certain organs, the harder it gets to talk about them with your kids.
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I simply can't say enough about HandCrafting Justice, a partnership in which women from developing countries have an opportunity to better their lives by making and selling handmade items under decent working conditions for fair wages. The organization absolutely stole my heart with their mission of economic justice for women - to say nothing of the fantastic items they offer on the website.
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Have I mentioned that my kitchen and its various electrical appliances intimidate me? That sometimes even the the relatively benign coffee pot has turned on me in my hour of need? One morning not long ago, it tried to brew up something completely undrinkable, thereby ruining my entire day. Lack of decent coffee has that effect on me.
With a baby born smack-dab in the middle of a hot Mississippi summer, there was nary a pair of booties to be found in my house. But when I discovered I was having a January baby this time around, up in the Northeast no less, you better believe the first thing I did was search for some fantastic footwear.
If my mother wants to buy my girls clothes from Neiman Marcus, who am I to argue? But you won't find me in there. Yeah, I'm practical. Maybe too practical. I want the cute designs you see on designer onesies, but it's so hard for me to shell out the bucks when I know that they'll be coated in bodily fluids in no time.
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I think that most every girl dreams of being a ballerina at some point. I did, even as I was rolling in mud puddles or pummeling a soccer ball. I confess in fact that I still harbor fantasies of a steamy pas de deux with Baryshnikov.
Oh, Misha. If only.
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If for some insane reason, the man you woke up next to this morning did not shower you with myriad expressions of his undying love, affection and willing monogamy, do not panic. Do not cry. Simply take matters into your own hands.
I think I've officially exhausted the pawning off of my daughter's artwork to her grandmothers as gifts. Her cute drawing on plain white paper is a hard sell as a birthday gift, when you gave the same thing a few months back at Christmas.
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In an ideal world, every child would rush to the craft drawer immediately following his birthday and handwrite a heartfelt thank you note to acknowledge each gift. After which, he'd clean up his workspace.
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When I was a kid, like so many others, I was convinced that my toys came alive at night and had tea parties. I only wished that I could catch them, just once, and join in the fun.
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More and more, I am asked by friends to point them towards something reeeeeally special for their cousin's/sister's/husband's supervisor's wife's baby shower. Not just the same old special that I recommended to someone else, but reeeeeeeally special. I'm pleased to say I now have a new option to add to the list.
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Anyone can bring a cute fluffy dog, bear, or if you're really fancy, elephant, to a baby shower or kid's party. But if you're going for the award for coolest aunt, uncle, or mom around, then I suggest grabbing a two-headed Squeakum from Devout.
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With the abundance of battery operated musical instruments out there screeching out some bizarre electronic form of "Twinkle Twinkle," I find it totally refreshing when I stumble upon some really great instruments that kids actually have to play themselves.
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When I had my first child, the hospital sent me home with this pastel green diaper bag with little Peter Rabbits all over it. It was cute. Really. It was. However, getting the husband to carry it without complaining--well you can only imagine.
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Let's get one thing straight right away: I don't cook. I avoid it whenever possible. I'm not good at it, I don't enjoy it, and I'm damn lucky that my husband is happy to take over in this department. When I'm on duty, it's Frosted Mini Wheats all around!
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It wasn't so bad growing up with an uber-organic mother. Until suddenly a candy-giving holiday crops up and you have to settle for some bizarre carob ball and a coloring book.
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These days I'm finding myself torn between grabbing my fabulous yet unwieldy diaper bag, and stuffing one of those diaper clutches into my already cluttered purse. But thanks to mom and designer Adrienne Jones, I've now got a third option.
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Ask any guy what he wants for Valentine's Day and I guarantee you it tilts more towards the naughty then the romantic. My feeing? Save the gushy cards and get a little wild for your man.
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I rarely brag about my toddler, however, I will say that at 2.5 years old, she's drawing better than I am. The only problem I have is figuring out what to do with the piles of colorless pencil drawings she creates daily, except tape them to the fridge and pop the rest in an old shoe box.
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I go by that old shopping adage that if you're unsure about something, walk away; if you're still thinking about it the next week, it was meant to be. (I also sometimes go by the adage, what the
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There is hardly an American child alive who doesn't go through a superhero fantasy phase. When my daughter decides she wants to be Wonder Woman, or Super Girl, or The Amazing Flying Ballerina-Lawyer, I will happily indulge her. But not with those scary dioxin-emitting plastic costumes from the store.
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Valentine's Day is just around the corner, and you know what that means - graciously allowing your significant other to demonstrate the depth and breadth of love felt for you in terms of pricey baubles and overpriced red roses. Me? I'll settle for just the baubles.
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I love my old-fashioned wooden high chair but I admit, every time I see those little teddy bears on the fabric seat it came with it makes me cringe, just a little. In fact, I'm sort of glad when my daughter gets tomato sauce all over it, because that's just a few more bears I don't have to look at for the time being.
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Angst-ridden tweens need information about crazy life stuff. It's our job as parents to provide them with just enough to to answer their questions, but not so much that it scares the living daylights out of them. And as cool as we can appear on the outside, the thought of discussing that first menstrual period may scare the living daylights out of us too.
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I've gotten so used to emailing people that when I actually need to write a nice little note, I've had to resort to white computer paper and a business envelope. How embarrassing!
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I'm all about gifts that you can actually use more than one day a year. It sounds like common sense, but then you look at all the Christmas bibs and Easter tees and Fourth of July themed flip flops out there and you sort of wonder. That's why I love these handmade heart baby rattles from India y Luna.
My first child, I'm fortunate to say, is healthy as a horse. But my second child: Ear infections up the wazoo. Even though there wasn't a ton of medical info to keep track of, especially compared with children with real illnesses, there are many times I wish I'd written down what that Motrin dosage was or which antibiotic had her spewing fluids from both ends.
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In theory the idea of a teething necklace is kind of cool, but in actuality, I think of it like letting your dog play with shoe-shaped toys -- probably not the best lesson out there. However, the necklaces from Momma's Jewels may have just changed my mind.
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Now that I've returned to the world of breastfeeding, I've officially begun the search for a nursing bra that doesn't scream "Look, a nursing bra!" You know, something that actually hoists the girls up without those straight jacket tactics.
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